Gershwin Shmershwin - Rhapsody in Belew

Slims February Twenty-third 2008

Super Tuesday found me in Boulder Creek, California. As I was driving in this small mountain berg tucked away amidst a giant Redwood forest, I accidentally made a wrong turn down a narrow alley that appeared to dead end at some houses. I realized the error of my way, quickly stopped the vehicle, and prepared to back out. As I checked to make sure it was clear to proceed, I spied a familiar person walking briskly toward the fire station located across the street. He was ten feet away from me. The window powered down, and as we made eye contact, I said, "Hey, Jim, are you going to Belew?" Jim had no idea who I was, or what I was talking about, and replied, "Uh, I'm going to vote." gesturing to the polling station across the street. I realized that he didn't remember me, so I clarified, "Adrian Belew is playing at Slim's next month, and I was wondering if you knew about it."

"Adrian Belew?" he reiterated excitedly. "Yeah, on February twenty-third." I volunteered. "Is it sold out?" he asked. "I doubt it," I said, and continued to give him what details I knew. He said,"Thanks! I'll see ya there."** and quickly jaunted across Highway 9 to vote. I hollered, "Vote for Ron Paul" but I don't think he heard me.

Few people have influenced music more than Adrian Belew. Gershwin*** himself couldn't claim the monumental impact of this master of sound. Adrian Belew's list of accomplishments and collaborations would take a blog of its own to describe. Although Adrian Belew is virtually unknown to the masses, his name and influence is well known in the music industry.

The Power Trio

I've seen Adrian Belew perform live a few hands full of times with various bands over the past couple of decades, and every time I walked away with my jaw dragging behind me.

A couple of years ago, my son and I drove to the "big city" to see Belew play at Slim's in San Francisco. That particular version of the Power Trio featured Ade's friends Mike and Mike, on drums and bass, respectively. We were surprised to find that Slim's was a tiny venue. Maybe I expected more grandiose ambiance for such a renowned performer... a musician who is no stranger to large coliseums. The show was great, and everyone had a really good time, and although the performance was no doubt better than anything else in town that week, or month... I somehow felt that Belew deserved more power than what the Mikes were willing or capable of contributing. Then came the Slicks.

Three of a Perfect Pair

A brother and sister duo, Eric and Julie Slick are the best thing to happen to Belew since the war. With these two solid young performers, Belew has everything he needs to pull off the best show you've ever seen, or heard. I saw them perform two nights in a row in November of 2006. At Montalvo in Saratoga, the California Guitar Trio opened and played a sparkling set. Adrian joined them on stage for their last tune, then CGT left the stage, and soon all three members of the latest and greatest incarnation of the Power Trio took the stage, prepared to blow the roof off the ritzy theater. Unfortunately, a dozen people or so stood up and walked out the moment the first song came to an end. Adrian looked stunned. How painful it was to watch the ignoramuses mooing and bumping as they made their getaway from the loud rock music, and retreated to the safety of their multi-million dollar homes in the hills above Saratoga. "Good riddance," I said as I moved to a recently vacated seat in a better location of the small theater. The show was great, but I suspect that the mass exodus may have affected the performers more than they made apparent.

On the following night, my friend Aaron, joined Mighty Mo and myself as we peddled our bicycles to the Catalyst in Santa Cruz to again see this powerful music trio. It was Aaron's first time to see Belew, and he said it was one of the best shows he had been to. Even though the trio played basically the same set as they had the previous night, it seemed like two completely different shows. No one walked out in Santa Cruz.

Return of a Crimson King

Last night the Adrian Belew Power Trio made their appearance at Slims... their fourth stop on their 2008 tour. Once again I was impressed at the quality of showmanship on the stage. The small venue was packed with barely enough room to walk around. Apparently news of these remarkable musicians has gotten out. The sound was crisp and clear, and thanks to my trusty ear-plugs, it wasn't too loud either. The three performed their set flawlessly, and presented the crowd with a fine selection of songs. Krimson fans were rewarded with a goodly number of songs, such as Dinosaur, Frame by Frame, Three of a Perfect Pair, Thela Hun Ginjeet, and Elephant Talk. I was amazed to watch the Slicks play these complex pieces so proficiently. In my mind's eye, I could see Robert Fripp smiling.



* I met Jim at an Adrian Belew show at Slim's back in 2005.

** He did. We happened to stand next to each other in the merchandise line which featured a drawing for an Adrian Belew autographed Parker P-44 Guitar.

*** Gershwin shmershwin!
Rhapsody in Belew!
He doesn't hold a camel to you

Electric Leaves

Pictured L to R - Art Emanuel, Mason Rosenberg, Jordan Topf and Luke David

Last night I ventured out into the rain, and drove to the Crepe Place to see one of Santa Cruz' finest new musical ensembles. This was only the second time Electric Leaves Collective* has performed live, even though they sounded as though they've been playing together for a long time. That is in part due to the fact that Bassist Mason Rosenberg and Guitarist Jordan Topf are cohorts in the locally famous, smart-rock band, The Vox Jaguars**. Electric Leaves are nothing like the Vox Jags, (or any of Mason's other bands*** for that matter). The music is written and directed by front man Luke David, who plays keyboards, guitar and vocals. The clever presentation of tones is held cohesively together by the brilliant percussion of Art Emanuel.

As the band played before a large portrait of Robert Zimmerman, the audience consisting mostly of twenty-somethings was captivated by the engaging music. Even the servers took time out of their patron-to-patron marathon to watch the expertise of the musicians. The warm colors inside the Crepe Place nicely offset the cold visible rain falling outside.

I'd see them again.

*Electric Leaves Collective

Jordan at Crepe Place

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=12271866

**The Vox Jaguars

Live at Brookdale Lodge January 2008

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=99384041

*** Including his Harbor High School Band where he plays stand up bass, Mason is in five very different bands.

A duo with Mr.Laser-Smith, Couteau is an Elektronique extravaganza of sounds somewhat reminiscent of Daft Punk.

Live at Metamusic January 2008

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=209030117

Then there's the band formerly known as Pterodactobot http://www.myspace.com/wetrenchgalaxies

Best Live Record of the Year - Side Four: Critique

Pre-Order Belews

I waited a long time to hear this CD. Back when the double Mike power trio was touring, there was talk about plans to release live material to complete Adrian's Sides theme. After all, a three-sided record doesn't make much sense.* Then came the Eric and Julie version of the power trio, and more promises of a Side Four in the future. Recently it was announced that Side Four would soon be released, and that pre-orders were being taken at http://www.adrianbelew.net/ I promptly pre-ordered my copy of Side Four in order to be among the first to hear it. That was the plan anyway... 

I looked for it in my mailbox daily, until one day, it donned on me that I couldn't remember informing Pay-pal of my address change when I moved a couple of years ago. I decided to check my on-line receipt, and to my horror, I discovered that my signed copy of Side Four had been shipped to my old address on B-40 Drive. I picked up the telephone and called the people who currently live there, but no one answered, so I left a message explaining what had happened. A few more days passed and I hadn't hear back, so I drove to Happy Valley to find out for myself. When I arrived, no one was around, no mail in the box, and no package anywhere to be found. Next door, the infamous Happy Valley Villa loomed forebodingly... making me wonder if my Side Four was being enjoyed by some villain living within the gates of the spooky complex once owned by the Elizabeth Montgomery family. On Christmas Eve, I successfully contacted the current residents at my former address who told me that they hadn't seen the parcel. OK, so it is lost, I should be able to find a copy of Side Four somewhere in Santa Cruz right? wrong! I found two Side Twos, and one Side One, but no Side Four for X-Mass. 
Unexpected Surprise

I play disc golf every Thursday, and today was no exception. I realized that I had forgotten my special disc golf glasses, so Mighty Mo met me at the course, so I'd be able to see where to throw the disc. In addition to my special spectacles, she handed me a small manila mailer. The official Nashville TN postmark was dated December 24, X-mas Eve. I knew it was Side Four before I looked to see. The good folks at Adrian Belew Presents had made sure that I received a replacement for my lost parcel. I had a fantastique round of disc golf in anticipation of listening to my new compact disc.

I didn't open the parcel until I got home. Knowing that it would be difficult to give a critical listen with all the hustle and bustle of extra-family activity all around me, I chose to wait until the house was quite quiet and dark. I didn't want any interruptions. With headphones adjusted comfortably on my ears, I pushed play, and heard the best live album of the year... maybe the best album of the year... I haven't heard all of them yet, so can't say for sure. 
The Listen
 
Writing on the Wall erupts like a volcano on a primordial landscape. The thundering sound makes me feel like some kind of Primusaurous Erectus is coming to scoop me up and devour me. Fast as punk and tight as a fine Swiss watch. Suddenly, another Dinosaur rears its head for an old familiar Krimson cover. The bass is masterfully executed, the drums are precise and deliberate. Adrian's voice is powerful as he delivers every note with convincing passion. Pretty freakin' good for an old guy. Oh, and the guitar... Oh, yea... and did I mention the bass? What really stands out on this track is the bare foot pretty's phenomenal frettery. Wow! Queen Crimson.

I had always hoped of one day seeing and or hearing Les Claypool play Ampersand live with Belew... this is probably better... Next, Adrian introduces his masterful young musicians who have just made such an impression on the audience (and listeners at home like me). Young Lions sounds as though the trio has played together for a decade. Adrian's guitar solo roars and reminds everyone what they're there for. He manages his custom-made Parker Fly guitar as though it is an extension of himself. No wonder Beat Box Guitar was nominated for a Grammy a couple of years ago. Infused with a touch Krimsonesence, it really grooves, and is a lot of fun to listen to too. It sounds like the band is having a great time... like three kids in a sandbox. One of the most beautiful songs in the sides series is Matchless Man. The lyrics and backwards guitar give this piece a bit of a Lennon flavour.

Next the band plays A Little Madness. I wonder how mad folks feel about the title. I don't think they'd like it, but I do... really... what, do you think I'm Krazi? In a couple of months, I'm going to Drive all the way to San Fancisco to see this dynamique trio because they're not coming to the vegetarian and barefoot-friendly Santa Cruz. The Siblings Slick sit this one out as Adrian commandeers the wheel and takes everyone on a Belooperistic adventure. Nice!

One of my favorite Belew songs is Of Bow and Drum, from the Op Zop Too Wah album. I couldn't ask for a better live presentation. Great job. Last November, I was impressed when these three played Big Electric Cat at the Catalyst here in Santa Cruz. Listening to this track reminded me of the excitement in the air that night. From frogs croaking in the jungle to the slick presentation on this disc, there are now lots of versions of Thela Hun Gingeet for the Krimsonnoisseur to enjoy. 
Not Kids Anymore

Now that I've heard Side Four, I feel like it isn't fair to refer to Eric and Julie Slick as kids any longer. They've proven themselves. Any band would be thrilled to have either one of these exceptional performers in their ensemble... Adrian Belew is fortunate to have both of them. He'll have to work hard to keep up with these two.

I have to wonder what is next for the Twang Bar King now that the Sides are complete...
and what of the siblings Slick?* Unless you're the Residents who recorded a three sided concept album called Tourniquet of Roses. The double album was intended to have a blank fourth side, but economics outweighed concepts, and the music was whittled down to accommodate the limitations of a single 12# vinyl disc, (two sides). Fortunately, the full version is now available on one side of a single compact disc.

Frank Zappa - My Fourth Concert

Twas Friday night, and I was sleeping over at my friend Jon's house. It was late, and we were hanging out in the dark living room of his parent's house, listening to KRSP FM Radio being broadcast from Salt Lake, when we heard the announcement that Frank Zappa would soon be playing at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake. I was familiar with Zappa from my John Lennon two-record set entitled, Some Time In New York with Elephants Memory and Invisible Strings, of which disc two, side two featured selections of a live performance of John and Yoko with Zappa and the Mothers. I had listened to it a million times, maybe a million-n-one, and was excited to have the opportunity to see the infamous Frank Zappa live.

The following day, Saturday, I went to Salt Lake with my mother. She drove me to the Salt Palace where I purchased two tickets for a grand total of thirteen bucks. Later, we went to the Cottonwood Mall. While my mom did her thing, I went to Raspberry Records to browse through the records, and hopefully find a Frank Zappa album to buy. I wanted to better familiarize myself with his music before the show. I had doubts that they would have any Zappa titles at all, but was pleasantly surprised to discover that they had a variety to choose from. One particular album cover caught my eye, and with no knowledge of what I was getting into, I purchased Zappa/Beefheart "Bongo Fury" which is to this day, my favorite Zappa album. I quickly became familiar with the songs, in hopes of hearing something I knew at the show.

On the night of the show, Jon's father and mine drove us to the Salt Palace and dropped us off while they went to catch a movie. We funneled into the venue with the masses, and made our way to our seats. The Salt Palace had a policy which prohibited patrons from smoking, yet, entertainers on stage were allowed to smoke. Frank made a big deal about that, and refused to go on stage unless everyone was allowed to smoke. The demands were quickly complied with and the show began with Frank giving a long lecture, and then proceeded to shred for the next two or three hours. I was surprised to find that Zappa was much more than a potty-humored musical comedian, and could actually play guitar quite well... very well in fact. He even played some material I was familiar with. The show finished with a medley of tunes including Jamrag, and an instrumental version of Muffin Man. I was especially impressed with the drummer, (Terry Bozio) who played his heart out all night. I had seen Carl Palmer a couple of months earlier, and found Bozio to be every bit as dynamic.

In the years following, I became a bit of a Zappa fan, but I must admit that I like Beefheart much more. Too often, Zappa's lyrics were just too immature for my tastes... I guess. I preferred him most when he shut up and played his guitar.

"I wish I had a pair of bongos..." The Venerable Van Vleit

Deef Dumb and Blinded By Laser Beams

In rhetrospect, I was dumb to go... I didn't even like Ted Nugent, but my friends Jon, Mark and Ese persuaded me to go with them. It was a pretty lame show with little memorable and not much of mention, except for the encore, (or was it an accident or prank? I'm not sure), Teddy boy surprised everyone with an explosion of decibelistic excess. I was standing when the shock wave hit me... the blast blew me back into my seat. My head hurt, and ears rang with a painful throbbing drone as we exited the Salt Palace Arena. "As if Nugent wasn't loud enough... Why did he have to go and do that? Who does he think he is?" The ringing in my ears was so loud I could barely hear my inner dialogue.

Now here I am about twenty eight years later, and my ears are still ringing. Thanks, Ted! You're a real class act and a hell of an American. Keep up the good work.

I can't give Ted credit for my decline in visual sensory activity though. Laser beams are responsible for that. Thanks laser beams.

ELP + Journey - Perry = My Third Concert

When my older brother was killed in a car accident in 1973, I became the de facto proprietor of his music collection. There, I discovered two cassette tapes of particular interest which expanded my music-world view, and opened to me an entirely new avenue of musical appreciation and exploration. The albums Tarkus and Trilogy by Emerson Lake and Palmer (ELP) blew my ten-year-old mind. I had never heard anything quite like it. Careful listening revealed that ELP were serious yet extravagant musicians, capable of complex orchestrations, and poetically profound lyrical themes. They were, as far as I was concerned, the next step in music... the future of rock and roll. By 1977, they had become one of my favorite bands, and I owned most of their albums when I learned that they were coming to play at the Salt Palace.

We purchased four tickets. Two of them went to my best friend Jon and myself, and the other two went to my sister Skarzita and her Gritzmacher friend. We all rode together in Skarzita's little red Ford Mustang 2, and listened to Steve Miller Band on the way to the show.

When we arrived, we could hear the opening act already playing, yet the doors were still locked. Jon had heard somewhere that the first band was called Journey, a new band no one had ever heard of. Finally they opened the doors and thousands of people filtered through dozens of unlocked glass doors manned by fancily clad security personnel donning snazzy baby-blue coloured uniforms busily checking for cans and bottles of alcoholic beverages and other forbidden objects and substances.* We were lucky to get good seats on the arena floor... my first time there. Journey** continued to play as we made our way to our seats. They were great! A four man band-bass, drums, guitar and organ. After finishing an incredible set, the keyboardist (Greg Rollie) announced, "We're going to play a George Harrison song." I took special notice as they played a nicely arranged version of It's All Too Much. After a lengthy appreciative applause, the organist said, "This song is on our newest album." This meant that they had multiple albums, so I shouldn't have any trouble locating one. I knew I'd be hearing more from Journey in my future. I'd make sure of it. They finished their set and left the stage. The house lights came on to reveal a thick smoky atmosphere in the large arena. It smelled like everyone was having a great time.

The intermission lasted about forty minutes, which gave me ample opportunity to use the restroom, grab some grub and rehydrate with Coca cola. The arena was mostly full, with at least ten thousand in attendance. The Salt Palace maximum occupation would accommodate 13,075 persons. The lights went down, and a male voice was heard announcing:

"Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends... Ladies and gentlemen, Emerson Lake and Palmer."

The band began playing Karnevil #9 which was immediately followed by a speedy version of Aaron Copeland's Hoedown. Then Greg Lake announced, "We're going to give you Pictures at an Exhibition." I couldn't believe it. That was one of my favorite pieces, and certainly one of my favorite ELP albums... and they played the piece in its entirety... to perfection. Carl Palmer and Keith Emerson took a break while Greg Lake played Lucky Man on his acoustic guitar. I had hoped they would play that song, and wasn't disappointed.

It was the Works Tour, so the remainder of the show was dedicated to material from that album. Keith Emerson was flamboyant, yet masterfully precise. I had never seen anyone play like he did. He stood surrounded by keyboards, with a large standing panel of what appeared to be hundreds of input and output jacks, not unlike an old-timey telephone switchboard operator would have used. Carl Palmer played drums in a way I had never imagined. He was incredible, and seemed to give his performance every bit of energy he had. Their finale concluded with the song Pirates, and the firing of two cannons which were mounted on top of towering speakers at each end of the stage. I was impressed, and bent over to pick up a phosphorescent Glow Stick someone had thrown during the encore applause. I took it home with me as a souvenir of the event.

Now I had been to three rock concerts, George Harrison, Kiss and now ELP, and had gained a good perspective on what true musicianship is. More evidence to me that Kiss was all image, and no substance, while Harrison-Shankar and ELP-Journey were the real deal. It had only been thirteen days since I had seen Kiss, so the contrast was loud and clear.

*"1. In conformance with Salt Palace rules; cans, bottles, ice chests alcoholic beverages will not be permitted inside the premises.
2. The presenter of this ticket consents to a reasonable search for such items before entering.
3. Failure to comply with above conditions will result in non admission."

** Within a few days Jon and I had sought out some Journey albums at Odyssey Records in Salt Lake. We discovered that they had released three albums. Jon bought Next, and I purchased Look Into the Future, because It's All Too Much happened to be on that record. Jon and I both became numbered among the first one thousand members of the Journey International Force, the official Journey Fan Club. Unfortunately, Journey was never the same after that cow bell banging, luvin' touchin' squeezin' singin' fellow joined the band... in my opinion of course, (Over the years, expressing my opinion about Journey has earned me a great deal of disfavour among certain people who think Perry/Journey is the ONLY Journey). To Journey's credit, Infinity was a good album, but then Evolution came out, and after hearing one particularly bad song about a trillion times too many, Journey lost favour with me. You know the one.

KISS with Cheap Trick - My Second Concert

It was August fourth, 1977, my neighbor, Kent, invited me go to the concert with him. I had listened to all their records, and knew all their songs, but I was a Beatles fan. Kent, on the other hand, was probably Kiss' biggest fan and possessed every 12" album, 7" single, published article, and scrap of paraphernalia that could be obtained.

Our seats were similarly positioned to where I had sat at the George Harrison concert in 74. I knew this show would be nothing like that one though. And it wasn't. The opening act was a new band no one had ever heard of called Cheap Trick, and they were not well received. After all, it was 1977, and rockers didn't know what to think about a flipped up brim cap wearing short haired guitarist bouncing around stage. Besides, the drummer appeared overweight, wore dark thick rimmed glasses and also had short hair. Certainly not the image narrow minded rockers envisioned a rock band to look like. After a handful of songs, Cheap Trick was booed off stage. As I listened to people discuss the atrocity we had just beheld, I overheard someone suggest that Cheap Trick was punk. By then, everyone had heard of punk rock, but at that point no one in Salt Lake had ever actually heard punk rock... and this must be it, the ignoramus surmised.

Finally the lights dimmed, and Kiss took the stage, and an evening of platform shoe stomping, fire spewing, blood dripping, tongue wagging, loud rock and roll ensued. There was some stage fog too.

It was such a contrast from George Harrison and Ravi Shankar. The Kiss show was a loud psycho circus of masked frames, emitting a wall of thunderous power chords, smoke and explosions. The audience got what they expected, and seemed satisfied with the performance. Cheap Trick getting booed off stage was the best part for me.

I've never actually purchased an album by the Klowns In Silly Suits, although I did receive an unexpected gift from a record club that I once belonged to when they accidentally sent me a copy of Kiss Alive Two. I couldn't get rid of the damn thing. I think I blew it up with dynamite... or lit it on fire and threw it down an old mine shaft... one er tuther. Maybe both... it was a two record set. May it rest in pieces. I wish I had it now though... and my Beatles albums that I melted. 

A Disc Throw From Eric Clapton

Summer vacation was nigh, at hand... the last day of tenth grade, and Eric Clapton tickets were going on sale the next morning. Our school district let us out a week earlier than all the Salt Lake City schools, so we stood a good chance of getting a decent place in the ticket line. Back then, before the internet, we actually had to purchase tickets at the source, in this case, the Salt Palace box office. This meant, that if we wanted good seats, we had to camp out overnight in front of the Salt Palace on the concrete. I borrowed my sister's car for the occasion, a red Ford Mustang 2, with white vinyl roof complete with AM FM eight track tape player. The moment school let out, my best friend Jon and I were off to Salt Lake to camp out for tickets. When we arrived there, only six people were ahead of us. Soon there were hundreds of people behind us, and before long it was dark. It was exciting for a couple of sixteen year olds to be there in down town Salt Lake in the wee hours of the night... an adventure I will never forget. The police checked in every couple of hours to make sure nothing too crazy was going on. To them it was all pretty routine. No one wanted to lose their place in line, so everyone behaved when the cops were around. The concrete was hard and uncomfortable, which made it difficult to rest, so Jon saved my place in line while I walked around to stretch my legs. As I strolled about the outer walkways of the Salt Palace at midnight, I discovered that lots more people had arrived, and were now waiting in line. I was glad we had arrived early. I soon learned that some of the people there weren't waiting for tickets. They were there to make money off the campers. One old transient was selling homemade moonshine, and others were selling drugs of various kinds. We saved our money for tickets, and when the box office opened the following morning, we purchased the entire second row of section B. Jon and I got the best seats in the house... front and center.

It wasn't difficult selling the tickets. We could have made lots of money, but sold them to our friends for what we paid for them. The show wouldn't be until June 21st, so Jon and I made plans to gather as many Frisbees as we could find to take with us to the show. We spent the summer riding around on my dad's Honda Trail 90 looking for unattended discs. By the time we were done, we had gathered over twenty flying discs to take with us to the show. The challenge would be getting them past security, so we developed a plan. Girls were the answer. Two of the people we had sold tickets to were our girl-friends (not girlfriends) Dana and Charlene, and on the night of the show, we persuaded them go tuck the discs into their shirts to make it appear as though they were big with child. There were still a few discs that wouldn't fit in their blouses, so we bent them around our ankles, pulled our socks up around them, and draped our pant legs over the bulges. As we approached the security checkpoint, masquerading as very young supportive expecting fathers, we put our arms around the girls, and strolled past the checkpoint, and went inside. Piece of Poodle pie. They didn't ask to look inside the girl's purses, or anything. Illusion is everything.

As we strolled to the front of the arena floor, it became evident that our seats were the best to be had. Because of the height of the stage, we could see better than those in front of us on the first row. We began removing the flying discs, and reshaping them for flight. Soon there were more Frisbees than anyone had ever seen at the Salt Palace. Others had brought discs to throw as well, so there was plenty of plastique for the hucking. It was a pleasure to watch them make their way to the upper seat sections, then with one big throw, drift all the way across the arena. More fun than a barrel full of junkies.

Soon the opening act began. Blues, lots of it... played by a couple of old Black guys* who really knew what they were doing. They were great! I knew that Clapton was a huge blues fan, and had anticipated a bluesy performance. They were so good, and played lots of familiar old blues standards. We were really getting into them, and they seemed to appreciate our enthusiasm. They finished their set, and again the discs began to fly. Unable to resist the temptation to conduct a social experiment, I looked straight up, and pointed toward the ceiling. As I looked back at the other 13,000 people, I noticed that everyone was looking up, wondering what everyone was looking at.

Before long the lights again went down, and music began. It was a song I knew, Badge, co-written by George Harrison. But where was Clapton? I watched the guitarist playing a red Gibson open body. "No that isn't him... no beard, he's too young and his hair is too long to be Clapton" I surmised. Then the man playing the red Gibson stepped up to the microphone and began to sing. It was Eric Clapton after all, and he was ten feet in front of me, playing one of my favorite songs. Right on! This was Clapton's Backless tour, and he was still enjoying a lot of notoriety from the success of his Slowhand album. It was great to watch his technique from such close proximity. I was impressed how worn his frets were, and how precisely he could bend the strings. I watched in awe as he played the slide on Wonderful Tonight. He played two encores, the final being Cocaine, to which he received a huge audience participative response, "Cocaine" as the song ended.
* I felt really stupid the following day when I read the review in the paper and learned that the two old guys were Muddy Waters and BB King. I wish I had known that when they were ten feet in front of me. An announcement of some kind would have been nice. I suppose they just assumed everyone would know who they were.

7-7-7 @ 11:11

George Harrison with Ravi Shankar - My First Concert

In my youth, I was a huge Beatles fan. I knew everything about them, and had copies of every record. Lots of people were Beatles fans, but not in the seventies, when I was into them. At that time, it seemed like everyone was angry at the Beatles for taking away the sixties... as if somehow their split up caused the end of that mythical era. In fact, everyone thought it a bit odd that I was SO into them, and not the popular stuff. I even named my Parakeets Ringo and George, after two of the fab four.

Imagine my excitement when, one day, mom handed me the newspaper and said, "Look at this." I read the headline, "Ex-Beatle Schedules Solo Tour" as I read on, I learned that my favorite Beatle - George Harrison would be coming to play, along with famous sitarist, Ravi Shankar... live in concert at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City, on November 16, 1974. I certainly wouldn't be missing it, even if it did cost seven bucks.

After the tickets went on sale, mom took me to the Salt Palace box office, and we purchased two tickets for seven bucks each. I wanted the eight dollar seats, but there was no way mom was going to spend that much. Besides, I was happy to have any seat at all. After all, this wasn't just any show... this was a Beatle, an almost god-like creature to me, and I was going to be able to behold him with my own eyes, and hear him with my own ears. I couldn't wait, as I held my dark yellow and black ticket in my hand, imagining how it was going to be. I fantasized that the other three Beatles would make a surprise appearance, and maybe I'd get to meet the Beatles too, and other musings of an eleven year old.

The day before the show, I was in the schoolyard, and an aeroplane flew over. I remember that it was red, and imagined that there was a large white letter H on the tail fin. "Surely, this is George Harrison's plane," I speculated. At the time, my older sister was in college, and she took me to the show. She had been to lots of concerts, so it was logical that she would be my guide as I entered the rock concert scene.

The night of the show was so exciting. The drive from Tooele seemed longer than usual. The islands of the Great Salt Lake were still visible, and the water shimmered as the sun set with spectacular colours of deep red, orange and yellow. This was a magical night. It was dark by the time we got to Salt Lake. The Mormon Temple could be seen from many blocks away, and was bathed in white light, emphasizing the whiteness of the huge granite stones of which it is constructed. A couple of blocks away, we reached our venue, and parked across the street from the Salt Palace, which, like the temple, was bathed in white light, and illuminated the sky.

There were a lot of people working their way through the large heavy glass doors. Lots of different kinds of people. There were some dressed up, as if they were going to the orchestra or ballet. Some were hippies, and there were even a few Hari Krishnas. The thing I noticed most was that I was the youngest person there, at least as far as I could tell. I didn't see any other eleven year olds.

Since our seats were rather far from the stage, I took binoculars to see better. I think my sister suggested it. Despite the distance from the stage, our seats were pretty good. We were situated facing the stage, and could see over everyone. Smoke filled the air, and I had my first smell of marijuana which was all around me.

The lights dimmed, and the arena exploded with a roar of excited fans. A man walked onto the dark stage, and said, "Blah blah blah is pleased to welcome George Harrison!" More roaring ensued as the lights and music began simultaneously.

George kicked off the show with a song I would soon learn was called "Hari's On Tour Express," an instrumental, and first track of his (then) soon to be released Dark Horse album. As I peered through my spy glasses, I could see that George was wearing a suit coat over a t shirt, and at a certain point in the song, would give his leg a bit of a lift, almost a small kick, as he played "Express."

Except for the new Dark Horse material, I knew all the songs he played, and was surprised when he played "In My Life," a Lennon song. At the completion of that song, he said, "God bless John Lennon, wherever he is." He then announced that he would return for the third portion of the show, and introduced Ravi Shankar along with family and friends who performed for the second portion.

I loved the Indian music. It was wonderful to observe such talented and gifted musicianship. They left the stage to an appreciative applause which seemed to last a lunchtime. They returned to the stage for one last gracious bow. The stage hands were busy setting up drums guitars and etc. again, and before long, the lights dimmed again, and George came out on stage alone and played "Here Comes The Sun," and it was more than "all right..." it was great! He was no longer wearing the suit coat, and I could now see that it was a Dark Horse logo on his T shirt.

George introduced his band, and allowed keyboardist Billy Preston to play a couple of his hit songs... ie. "Will it Go Round In Circles?" and "Nothin' from Nothin." The band played a few more songs and left the stage.

Again, the crowd erupted in a roar, as thousands of Bic lighters and matches suddenly illuminated the interior of the arena. I even saw some wax cups on fire. The stomping, roaring and burning continued for some time, until George and the band came back out on stage. For the encore, he played the song "Dark Horse" and lowered a huge flag above the stage with the Dark Horse image on it. "Thank you for coming... good night," were George's last words that night.

As we filed out of the Salt Palace Arena, I noticed that my ears were ringing as my sister commented, "That was the best concert I have ever seen." I knew it was the best one I had ever seen... and may still be. In Y2K, I took my then ten year old son to his favorite band and first concert. King Crimson at the Fillmore in San Francisco. It was phantastique!

Rememory Banks

I love Laurie Anderson, even though she doesn't know me from a red faced golem. I enjoy watching her imaginative performances. I'm always stoked when she comes to my little village of Santa Cruz, and on one occasion, March 10 2002 to be precise, I took the whole fam damily to see her at our Civic Auditorium. I had purchased my tickets a couple of weeks earlier at the box office window, (with a hefty $4 per ticket convenience charge), which gave me my choice of available seating. I purchased four, and distributed them among my family.

Two years later, it was announced that Ms. Anderson would be returning to the Civic Auditorium for another performance. This time, I saw an ad in our local "Great Exchange" paper where someone was selling two tickets for Laurie Anderson for $65.00. I called the number and procured then, paying no attention to my seating assignment (I was just "happy" to get them). Here's the weird part... when I went to the show, I walked to my seat, experiencing an overwhelming sense of deja vu. As I sat there looking around, it became evident that I was sitting in exactly the same seat where I sat the previous time I saw Ms. Anderson. What are the chances? I had only been to two shows at the Civic, both Laurie Anderson, and both times I sat in the same seat. Or so it would seem.

Don Van Vleit said: "I have an excellent memory, it just isn't decorated properly." Let me just say this about myself... I have a great memory, but my rememory doesn't seem to be as reliable. These two Laurie Anderson shows are perfect examples. I recently found both sets of tickets which revealed that yes, indeed, I was sitting in section L, seat 4, however, in 2002, I was in row G, and in 2004, I was in row F. F for Failure to remember accurately. This kind of thing is a bit unsettling to me, and makes me question everything I remember. Now that I think about it... this is the kind of world I would create for myself, and it would explain a lot of unexplainable things... somehow. Maybe not. Two good shows, but I don't think I got what I paid for.